Here are we met, three merry boys
by Moiself
Summary: Drew decides it's time Wade and Sheamus faced up to the truth of their friendship with occasional benefits. Shearrett - Beardy & Burly series.


"Lads, lads, lads, lads, lads…"

Drew's voice was low, his natural burr broader thanks to the slight effects of a few pints. Not that he was drunk, far from it. At least far from it for now, no doubt that was where the night was heading though.

No, right now he just had a pleasant buzz going. Partly from the beers, partly from the convivial company of the two idiots he shared the table with. He had missed them both.

He smacked his hand off the table, grabbing their attention and raised his glass.

"Here's tae us, wha's like us? Gey few, and they're a' deid!"

The three tapped their glasses together, a chorus of 'slaínte' and 'cheers' echoing around the table before those same glasses were raised to lips.

Nights like these were no more uncommon now then they had been when they all worked together, the demands of the job preventing them from too much over indulgence, but at least then they had been able to see each other most days. Now Drew only heard of Shea and Wade's antics instead of witnessing them first hand and his own successes were shared with his bearded brethren only after the fact.

It just made nights like this all the sweeter, catching up with the two men who had been part of his life for so long. Only family knew him better, and that point could be argued.

There was no real reason for their get together save for all being in the same place at the same time, no predetermined agenda, though naturally the conversation had turned at one point to Wade's renewed single status.

Drew sat back, quietly observing his friends over the top of his pint glass, noticing even through the cozy fog of the alcohol the softness in Shea's voice when he reassured Wade that he was a good man, noticing the way that Wade leaned into the comforting hand Shea laid on his shoulder.

The conversation eventually marched on, the drink still flowing, keeping their vocal cords well lubricated. A few pictures were taken, a few autographs signed, though for the most part the other patrons of this establishment left the trio alone.

Drew was unable though to fully shake the image of that tender moment he had witnessed earlier.

It wasn't any sort of great shock to him. He'd travelled with Wade and Sheamus long enough to be well aware of the blurred lines of their relationship, well aware that they were no strangers to each other's beds.

It was by no means a unique situation in their line of work, and it had never affected their friendship, both Wade and Shea maintaining that it was a purely physical thing.

"There's none so blind as those who will not see."

He muttered quietly to himself, but apparently not quietly enough.

"What you whispering about over there?"

"Nothing Sheamus, my good friend...just thinking out loud."

A curious expression fell across the Scot's face. He drained the last of his latest pint and set the empty glass firmly back down on the table.

Sheamus groaned, recognising the look.

"Aw shite, Wade. He's got his poetry face on again…"

"Already ordering the Uber."

Drew glared at his companions and cleared his throat.

" _Here's a bottle and an honest man_

 _What would ye wish for mair, man._

 _Wha kens, before his life may end_

 _What his share may be o' care, man._

 _So catch the moments as they fly_

 _And use them as ye ought, man._

 _Believe me, happiness is shy_

 _And comes not aye when sought, man._ "

Recital finished, he glowered pointedly at Sheamus and Wade before throwing his hands in the air in a clear demonstration of frustration.

Their ride arrived soon after and within thirty minutes, the party was reassembled in Wade's kitchen, united in a single purpose.

"Shea, that bread buttered...right to the the corners, man! No Wade, you're on drinks, you cannae be trusted with the ham and cheese!"

This was an argument almost as long as their friendship.

"I don't see what the big deal is. Bread...square. Cheese...square. Ham...fucking square."

"IT DRAGS THE CHEESE OUT AND YOU BURB YOUR CHIN!"

Sheamus yelled, his head deep in the cabinet over the refrigerator where the breville lived, having climbed on a chair to reach it, putting his crotch at eye level with a suddenly distracted Wade.

"Tear it up! Puttin it in whole is savage…"

Drew added his voice to the argument, continuing on in a quieter tone, mumbling to himself.

"...though I'm betting you'd no mind a wee bit o' hole savaging, Wade…"

"What the fuck is burb? I think you mean burn, James...anyway, we all have beards...and I'd not mind a bit of _what_?"

The youngest of the trio had time only to throw Wade a cheeky smirk before Sheamus set the sandwich maker on the counter between them, putting an instant halt to their banter as all three men immediately turned their attention to the sacred art of inebriated toastie making.

Only when they were all seated around the kitchen, devouring the first round of sandwiches while the second cooked did the chatter pick up once more, Wade none too gently shoving Drew's leg with his own to get his attention.

"Right then Andrew...what was that about a savaging?"

"Oh for fuck's sake, Wade...are you really that dense?"

He waved his sandwich at his two friends.

"Are you _both_ really that dense?

"Wait, what's this got to do with me? I have no say over how that English bastard treats his ham."

"I don't know why you're both so concerned about my bloody ham!"

"Hai!"

Drew banged the table again.

"Would you two haud yer wheesht a minute! Right. Let me explain this in simple terms for you pair of numpties. Wade, there's a reason it never works out for you with all these lassies, and he's sitting there right beside you."

Sheamus almost choked on his mouthful of sandwich.

"Wha!? How is that my fault? I'm never anything but lovely to his girlfriends...well apart from yer woman that time, but she had her head up her arse...but yeah, apart from her I'm nothing but nice!"

"Didn't say you weren't...but it doesn't change the fact that you're the reason he's single...and he's the reason you are."

He got to his feet and grabbed the second round of toasties, plonking them on the table in front of a confused looking Wade and Sheamus.

"Here's the thing lads...I know that what you two have with each other isn't the same as what you have with me...and that's fine. Never been a problem. You two like to have a bit of how's yer faither with each other and that's grand, no biggie. Personally, I have no idea how you've managed it for so long and still stayed friends."

"It's just sex, Drew…"

The Scot held up a hand to stop Sheamus.

"...but is it really? And if it is, why is that all it is? Ask yourselves that boys...ask yourselves that...oh! IS THAT BRANSTON PICKLE? GIMME! How many more years are you going to arse about, pretending that you don't care more for each other? What's stopping you from giving it a go together? Properly I mean."

Neither Sheamus or Wade had an answer for him. Drew topped up their glasses from the whiskey bottle on the table, slathered a heaping pile of the sticky condiment on his sandwich and continued.

"If you're worried about what people will say, trust me, your friends...we won't care. As for the fans, you already spend a fuckload of time together as it is, so as long as you don't go shagging in the middle of the ring they'll be none the wiser unless you want them to be...so come on, what's really stopping you?"

There was still nothing from the stunned pair facing him except silence. Pushing his chair back noisily, Drew got unsteadily to his feet.

"Ok, you two could probably use some peace to have a wee chat about this so I'm going to go crash in the guest room. That ok, Wade?"

"Sure. You know where everything is."

Reaching across the table, Drew bid his friends a goodnight, wrapping an arm round each in a hug, and planting a loud smacker of a kiss to each man's temple. He wobbled his way to the kitchen door, muttering just loud enough to be heard as he did so.

"Catch the fucking moments, lads...catch 'em!"

* * *

 ** _A/N - Drew is from Ayr, the home of Rabbie Burns, whose poetry I have borrowed here. The verse he quotes in full is a wonderful little exhortation to seize the day, and read literally, I think it fits here perfectly._**

 ** _The title is from another Burns verse, which describes a joyful night out drinking with the lads. Readings of both can be found here (remove the spaces) :_**

The verse that Drew quotes, **_Here's a bottle and an honest friend_** \- www . bbc . co . uk / arts / robertburns / works / heres_a_bottle_and_an_honest_frien

The verse that provided the title, _**Willie Brew'd A Peck O' Maut**_ \- www . bbc . co . uk / arts / robertburns / works / willie_brewd_a_peck_o_maut /


End file.
